Violet Nights
by A Shadow's Lament
Summary: 'Many answers rose to the tip of her tongue, but she gave none a voice lest she respond with "You." Instead, she smiled and waved a hand as though it was inconsequential. "Would you believe me if I were to say that fresh air is a rarity in the castle?"' Post TP Zelink. Rated T.


_It's been one heck of a while since I've wrote anything LoZ orientated. But this idea came to mind, and though it is plotless and basically a drabble, I do hope it is enjoyable. There may be myriad errors/plot discrepancies, and for that, I apologise, but alas, I wrote with no great intent in mind. As for the title… Violets represent blooming everything. (Is it bad I just wanted to use a V?)_

 _Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda does not, cannot and shall not belong to me. Shadow doesn't want to be sued. She wrote to (hopefully) put a smile on someone's face._

 _ **Violet Nights**_

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The grand ball of Hyrule. A celebration of the princess' birthday; a time for merriment, cheer and the perfect excuse to toast in abundance and let drink inhibit the societal paradigms.

Townsfolk would speak of the event with wistfulness echoing in their words. Nobility would brag of their invitations and favour with the princess. Eligible men would swarm the tailors, hoping to catch the young royal's hand and women would demand the best dresses in the attempts to snag the men instead.

The castle would be abuzz with scurrying feet and frantic faces, preparations and plans set into action to make the ballroom look nothing short of ostentatious. A theme would be proposed and all materials of the description would be procured: table clothes, banners, candles, serviettes and goddesses' only know what else.

To any onlooker or participant, the ball lived up to every expectation of being grand. Crystalline chandeliers glinted above their heads and champagne fizzed in expensive flutes. Surfaces shone with the glean of hard cleaning and silver platters dressed with copious amounts of food tempted those who were not yet captivated by the orchestra's dazzling talent.

To the princess, it was a complete and utter waste.

What truly was the need for such opulence when castle town still crumbled under the weight of its needed repairs? Was such a plethora of food really required when orphanages had been forced to become derelict, unable to meet the demands of hundreds of starving mouths?

Zelda lifted her fan to cover the twist of disproval her mouth made, barely able to refrain from recoiling in disgust as gluttonous nobles spat crumbs as they spoke. Her eyes moved quickly away, only to be disgraced with the sight of two lovers behind a pillar; his open collar and her hitched skirts hardly suitable for public display, but vastly ignored by all but the princess.

Flushing brightly, perhaps with rage at their disgusting affection or, more embarrassingly, at picturing herself and a certain other, Zelda cast her eyes downwards and scolded herself. How utterly degrading to be groped so carelessly by a man, to be seen as nothing more than attractive aesthetics and later, a quick source of pleasure.

And yet…

Her heart yearned to show even the briefest hint of affection, to display that a man's heart belonged solely to her and no other. Just how hers belonged solely to his.

Ridiculous, silly, whimsical fantasies.

Already, nine men had asked for her to grace them with a dance. Four whom had been inebriated and, bolstered with foolish courage, had attempted to press a kiss to her cheek. Even if her guards had not been quick to act, the reek of alcohol had been enough to have Zelda hastily declining.

Two had called her snobbish for refusing them, despite how politely she had done so and one particularly young man had burst into tears.

At that, she had caught the frown of her tutors. A lady must never decline a dance unless she holds reasons deemed valid.

A princess could do as she damn well pleased as far as Zelda was concerned.

Until it came to escaping early, then she was bound by her own desire to remain courteous even if she was bored close to tears.

With a sigh, she set her eyes on the couples dancing. Many still retained propriety, holding the correct pose and maintaining the required distance. Most had abandoned all rules and decorum, even performing illegal lifts or acting in a manner that under any other circumstance, would have the court reeling in shock.

Two youths in particular caught her attention. Their actions were clumsy and decidedly ungraceful, but neither fact hampered their bright grins and clear auras of mirth. Yet that alone was not what held Zelda's interest, and once she realised why she stared so intently, her sigh was aimed fully at herself.

The girl was dressed simply in ivory, accentuated by pockets of green that enhanced her auburn hair. The boy was her opposite; a tunic of rich green, trousers of ivory and hair the colour of fresh wheat.

Why not give him a sword and a canine grin and tempt her heart further?

Were this a fairy tale or a romance novella she so oft read despite groaning at the saccharinity, then this would be the anticipated moment. She would decide to get up from her chair with the excuse of needing a reprieve outside. And as she sorrowfully gazed upon the gardens, a shadow would cross with hers and attached to it would be the man whose very presence would lift her heart.

Zelda almost snorted. Perhaps she was too idealistic?

Stupidly foolish was far more applicable.

Yet for all the internal reprimanding she was doing, still her gaze traitorously looked towards the stairs.

Oh dear. She was sure that was her brain packing its bags to leave her heart to its idiocy.

Could someone not start a friendly spar, jeopardising her safety and thus demanding she be escorted someplace safe? Tip a drink unceremoniously over her, granting the needed alibi to escape?

Could they not be gracious enough to dance with her as a close friend would, pulling her close, twirling her round and lifting her into the air, uncaring of all those who may stare?

For once, would they not call her "your grace," or "your highness" but instead by her name as a certain man did only seeing it only fair as she did not swamp him with titles.

Would no one suddenly cause a commotion around the buffet, only to grab her hand and lead her outside, conversing as they pleased without fear of gossiping ladies?

And… would they not take her hand, removing its glove so that they may press their lips to naked skin, eyes glinting with the cunningness of a wolf at her sharp inhale.

Dammit.

She was thinking of him again.

"Your highness, are you well?"

Zelda lifted her head to look at the concerned sentry. There was no use in pressing her gloved hand to her cheek, but she would wager that they were tinted red regardless.

Her mouth opening to offer the standard reply of being fine, a different idea came to mind. "I am beginning to think that I am not." She pressed her hand to her throat, painting a grimace over her face as she exhaled forcibly. "Goodness, what a misfortune."

"Perhaps you should retire early, my lady?"

Zelda waived him off. "Oh no, I simply could not leave…" She coughed then, clutching at her head and screwing her eyes closed.

"Please, my lady. It would not bode well for you to fall ill."

She sighed, adding enough lamentation to make her sound regretful. "Indeed, prevention is better than cure."

"Shall I lead you back to your rooms?"

Zelda nodded. With only the barest worry that she was over-acting, she stood and let her body sway before making a grab for the sentry's proffered arm. She did feel a mite guilty for the expression of worry tightening the man's face, yet it was quickly swallowed by the elation.

To all onlookers, she looked full of regret with eyes showing her sorrow. Zelda kept her hand over her mouth throughout the travel to her chambers, so sure that if she dared remove it, she would begin to smirk.

 **... )O( ...**

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Satin sheets and fur blankets tucked snugly around her, the copper warming pan's residual heat warming her toes and the candles still smoking from extinguishing, Zelda was thoroughly prepared for drifting off. As the maids bid her farewell, Zelda nodded with a sleepy lethargy, shutting her eyes and snuggling deeper into her pillow.

Beyond the door, the metal of her guards' armour clanked in her pointed ears; a sure sign they were preparing themselves for their twilight shift. Zelda kept her breathing soft, listening for any further signs of their movements.

Older knights, with daughters of their own, were wise to a female's fantasies. Be they innocent, as Zelda's once were: to explore the vastness of her lands with nothing but the moon as guide and night masking her royalty in shadow, or more amorous as the guards likely expected.

In her inchoate adulthood, with rumours circulating the Zelda neither affirmed nor denied, (but secretly harboured in her heart and allowed to flourish with hope and want), some of the guards had taken far more precaution than warranted.

Truly, the worst were two who had known her since her childhood. On nights were sleep would evade her and so she lay awake, it was not uncommon for her door to creak open. A slither of light would bask the room for the briefest moment, eyes checking for her presence and nothing more.

There was no idle chat or any incentive for them to sit and talk, despite her clear lack of sleep and the apparent lack of stimulation elsewhere. The guards only cared for her welfare, and some were far more vigilant than others.

To both Lady Luck and the deities, Zelda sent a quick thank-you, sure that their hands had swayed the guards' rotas into her favour. That, or perhaps this was their way of granting her a birthday wish?

The two sentries outside her door were both young and relatively new to the post. Not to say they were unsuitable, per se. More so that they simply weren't wise to her night-time escapades.

No guards stood on her balcony. None were waiting below her rooms, certain they would catch her in the act. And even though she waited an hour – simply to ensure her secrecy – no heads peeked round the edge of her door.

This was not the first time Zelda had embarked on a parade, nor would it likely be the last. Nonetheless, as she eased herself out of bed and donned her tunic and breeches, her smile was vibrant.

To use her magic was an always an option, but the residual energy would provide a trace should anyone happen to look for her. And truly, Zelda loved the thrill.

Delicately stepping her way over the castle roof, she utilised balconies and vines at her leisure. The route was familiar but nonetheless dangerous, and she took her time despite her eagerness. At last, the arching frames of wrought iron and hanging vines of potted ivory met her view. A few quick and careful manoeuvres later, Zelda dropped down into the plaza of central castle town

The air was crisp and cool and with each breath, she inhaled a little deeper as though clearing her lungs from the castle's stagnated dreariness.

Her feet found her standing before the fountain, the melodious sounds leading her out with its tempting call of serendipity. Slow, rolling clouds hung in the sky, illuminated to silver wisps against the backdrop of black as their intangible fingers hid the moon from her view.

Allowing herself to recline on the fountain's edge, hands behind her and back languidly stretched, Zelda took the moment to enjoy the presentation of nature's pleasures.

A few stray locals wandered with the air of aimlessness, and much though several caught her eye, none gave no more recognition than a wave of acknowledgement as strangers do.

It was better, she supposed, that they did not drop to the knees in reverence nor gush over their princess sitting amongst were commoners would too. And yet… some small part of her worried that it was not respect for her privacy that led to their small gestures, but that they truly didn't know who she was.

No crown adorned her brow, no adornments decorated her hair and no gold laid atop her threads of finery, proclaiming her status for all to see.

How distant was her presence with her own people if the townsfolk only saw her as a figure of royalty, and not as the woman who had given her all to see their lives restored?

Inadvertent, but no less burdened by thought too heavy to match the sombreness of night, Zelda released a sigh.

Oft she found herself contemplating her life. Had she been presented with careful words atop a parchment scroll, the blank end awaiting her signature, would she have signed it? Give her life as Hyrule's princess and last surviving royal, bound by duty and chained with responsibility?

She knew her answer. Far from perfect, it was still her kingdom.

There were just time were she needed to escape from it.

Her gaze became wistful, wishing that she had the option of freedom. Be it even so simple as declining an invitation to the blasted Royal Ball.

Honestly, how many times was she going to sigh this night?

He had not wished to attend; it was that simple and truly Zelda could not rebuke his action. Amongst the celebrations of his name, bravery, honour, perseverance and all other remarkable traits, it was a wonder he hadn't escaped the entire continent.

He hated balls. Despite the guise of ease he would wear for her sake, she did not have to look too closely to see his discomfort.

She would never coerce him into coming, but goddesses did she wish he had.

She could parade in this façade of freedom all she desired, but even here, sat with open air and the stars' lights, she did not feel free. Not like how she did when she was him.

On a basis that was far too frequent, she would find herself caught in his easy grin, the warm crinkle to his eyes and laugh that was without restraint. Yet, even knowing that she would be staring did nothing to deter her from it.

She sat up and watching her reflection flicker in the water's surface. Would it be cruel for her to request his presence daily, even if for nothing more than to indulge in his presence? She swiped her hand across the water, dashing her image as though striking her thoughts.

Even the smallest of canines despised cages, much less a proud wolf.

Lead by her desires that she could not even admit to herself – they were ridiculous and unfounded – she found herself wandering to the southern gate. Walking far enough that she stood in the impasse between Hyrule field and the southerly entrance, the peaks of Faron Wood stood just noticeable.

She only noticed that her hand had stretched out before her when she noticed the white-ness of her fingers. Shutting her eyes in anger at herself, she was quick to clench her hand and bring it to her side.

Once or twice (or several times) she had requested that he meet her here. But tonight was not one of those nights. If he had not wished to attend the ball, why would he want to visit her in the dead of night?

And perhaps that was better. By the fountain's edge, with the castle behind and open land before them, it had been all too easy to forgo her promises to herself. She would not be the princess who fell for her hero. She would not follow the steps of ancestors before her, loving one whom she could never have.

In the moon's light with his smile lifting her heart and hands warming her chilled ones, she had failed in her promises.

Softly, she laid her head against the stone wall of the path. This was as close as she could ever be to him; and that would have to suffice.

And yet, for all her mind could reprimand her and the lament her heart sung, her feet did not listen to either of them. Stories do not speak of the decisions that the physical body will make, but the muscles will recall a memory as clear as the heart and mind do.

Or at least, that would be her excuse as to why she found herself stood in Hyrule Field.

Even at night, its vastness was beyond comprehension. With plains that stretched far and long and the barely visible backdrop of mountains and forests suggesting a limitless violet horizon, she could see why her hero loved it so.

Had he not mentioned once that he had enjoyed travelling at night? When the world was hushed and peace could be found in nature's wonders.

She could wish all she dared her heart allow. He was not here.

And why, Nayru's grace, would he be?

He was probably sleeping or amusing the Ordonian children or tending the goats – she glanced at the night sky – or ensuring they were penned safely or…

The low snort of an animal she knew by sound alone broke her thoughts, instantly sparking a glimmer of hope.

She near snorted at herself. It could be any horse! Really, simply having rode the mare in battle and having been in her presence several occasions by no means made Zelda a master.

But then… being curious would bring no harm, would it?

Bringing her cloak further about her shoulder – glad that she opted for her felted and fur-lined one – she made the walk to where the tree stood, its base surrounding by myriad violets.

Head bowed and neck curved, it was a single ear that flicked first, then an eye moved to gaze upon the intruder. But it was not the horse that held Zelda's interest, but rather her rider.

A man, whom for all his proclaimed bravery, was gawping at her as she would imagine a man would with a ghost.

He blinked, once, then twice and ran a hand across his eyes. Yet his expression of surprise did not waver. Not even when she slipped her hood free from her head and smiled.

"Hello, Link."

Finally, her words roused a reaction, delayed however it may be. Shaking his head and chuckling to himself, he returned her smile. Only his wore the addition of an amused confusion.

"Rather late for a late night stroll, your highness."

"I may say the same to yourself."

"I had a destination in mind. What brings the princess to this lonely field?"

Many answers rose to the tip of her tongue, but she gave none a voice lest she respond with "You." Instead, she smiled and waved a hand as though it was inconsequential. "Would you believe me if I were to say that fresh air is a rarity in the castle?"

She said it with enough levity that she believed her sorrow was masked. Link was not so easily fooled. Yet rather than grant her sympathy, he raised his eyebrows. Though the expression was one of intrigue, his words belayed no question. "Hence why you went to sit at your favourite spot."

For a moment, she could only look at him. And then she understood where it was he referred to. "Indeed, you may think it as such, but you are erroneous." When he only became confused, she smiled. "It can only be my favoured location if a very particular person is there beside me."

Clearly her skills of subtlety were in need of vast repair. That, or Link did not understand the inflection in her voice.

"Come now, Link. Surely you must know who it is I refer to?"

"Perhaps," he said quietly. "But I would think your favourite person would at least have the decency to attend a ball. Even if only to save the princess from boredom."

"Perhaps," she mimicked. "Though I happen to know he holds a great dislike for such events. It is better only one of us is subjected to it. One whom has had a plethora of them and likely several more, might I add." She laid a hand atop his arm then, and only when he met her gaze did she continue. "I am used to it. You are not."

"My inability to stand the things is no excuse."

"Nor is my selfish desire to force you to attend for my own pleasure."

His eyes had drifted, but at her last statement, they moved sharply back. "You are not selfish, Zelda."

It was her who looked away then. "I daresay I am incredibly selfish."

"How?"

She did not wish to say, but under his gaze, one which implored and encouraged, she found that she could not hold her words inside. "I long for that which I cannot have. But it is not grandiose things which I desire. I know I cannot have true freedom, nor live a life of my design. I understand those. Yet I yearn to experience adventure, romance… The simple embrace of another. Just to feel the comfort of contact, if only but for a moment." Her voice carried between them, swept into the air just as her body was suddenly swept into a hug.

His warmth enveloped her as the movement of his arms pulled her closer. Eyes wide, it was a long period before at last Zelda responded. The feeling was exactly as she had hoped, though this was far better than anything her mind could ever have made possible.

The feeling was made all the more pleasant when, at her move to pull back, he held her tighter. And into her hair, he murmured, "Perhaps just a… moment longer…"

Zelda did not need to reply with words; the way in which her hands clung to him and manner than she breathed him in – pine and grass and all scents of nature never to be found in castle walls – told him enough.

And yet, beyond the comforting haze, she had to wonder what had brought him outside. To be here, coincidentally where she had been close by, was too precise to be mere chance.

"Link," she began. "You know of my reasons for being here. What are yours?"

She felt him shift and she drew away to better see his face. Link did not allow her to though, having opted to tilt his head to face the sky, as if the stars could give him his answer.

"You are certainly not selfish, but I might be. If I were to ask you a wish, would you grant me it?"

"Of course," she said without hesitation.

He smiled and then kissed her.

It was truly only a brush of his lips against her own. Fleeting and quick, he would have left it at that feather touch if Zelda had not then chose to yank him close and kiss him harder.

Her smile was radiant when Link opened his eyes. And though her smile was as a princess' should be: wise, benevolent and the like, so too was there that glimmer of femininity. The shyness of being the focus of such an adoring gaze, the irrefutable ecstasy to be the receiver of sweet emotions that only a heart knows truly and perhaps, the inception of an even more powerful feeling.

With fingers long and delicate, she traced the lines and angles of his features, as though to commit exactness of his face to her memory. "It would seem," she said with a hint of amusement, "that luck favours you. It is most fortunate that our paths aligned this night."

"Ah," Link chuckled. "It is not luck if I happened to know where you would be."

"Oh?"

He smiled at her, stealing a quick kiss before he said, "It is Aquday, if I am not mistaken. I seem to have the habit of talking to a princess sat at the fountain on this day."

"It seems we share a similar habit," she said with a smile. "But Ordon must hold its own delights?"

The canine grin that she loved lifted his mouth into a grin as he kissed the pads of her fingertips. "Would you believe me if I said that fountains and a certain princess are a rarity in Ordon?"

She laughed. "I would. I could change that fact however if I commissioned the structure to be built?"

Link hummed in mock thought before shaking his head. "You could. But it would be missing one thing."

She was already leaning closer to him as she asked, "Oh? And what would that be?"

And he closed the distance as he replied, "The woman I love."

 **... )O( ...**

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 _Thank you for reading!_


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